Tough Crowds
Lately, Nautica has been avoiding Helix Gardens, because there's a decent chance of running into certain people she knows. But she had to get out of the Institute for a while, had to get into the open air at least briefly, and so she's done her best to quash her current unhappiness and unease, and just enjoy the crystalline CNA sculptures. Even if she keeps half an optic out for familiar Camien figures. Chromedome happens to be seated on one of the view-benches, watching a shifting strand of CNA do its thing. How casual he is, hands splayed out behind him on the bench, wheeled-shoulders laid back, left leg kicked over right. It'd border on in the obnoxious if there wasn't something pensive to his mask-face. Nautica pauses, as she realizes that she's standing such that she might be blocking Chromedome's view of the CNA sculpture. "Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't see you there at first." Possibly because he's not a grumpy blue Camien femme, and she's got a bit of tunnel vision. "Hmm?" Chromedome is all mildness in a metal shell, his eyeplate like some sunny beach windshield, I'm telling you. "Oh, that's all right." He tilts his head toward Nautica. "I was looking right through you. I ought to be the one apologizing." "What brings you to Nova Cronum, anyway?" Nautica asks, though she still does step aside to avoid blocking his view. "Not to pry or anything, but most people who show up here seem to have a reason; philosophy, or research, or something similar." Chromedome laughs blank. "Well, I'm not exactly the intellectual class, is that how you put it?" He gestures to his chest. "Do look at me. I don't have an attitude quite like yours. I'm sure you're quite the thinker, am I wrong?" "I suppose," Nautica replies. "I used to be a quantum mechanic on a starship, before the Clampdown stuck us all here; if it went faster than light, I was interested in it. But a lot of the pure intellectuals would think that's not really thinking. Though I do have a few other things I've studied as well, even if they weren't my career." "Not thinking if it's remotely applied, huh? Tough crowd," Chromedome easies. "I imagine they'd think a cop like me was an idiot. But I think you're impressive. Quantum mechanics isn't something just anyone can do." "Oh, it's not /that/ hard; all it takes is doing twelve-dimensional math. I mean, yes, it can be a little stressful when you're dealing with something like 'if you don't find a solution in the next five minutes, everything explodes, and local space-time might invert', but I'm certain most jobs have their moments of pressure," Nautica replies with a shrug, offering Chromedome a smile. Apparently, she has a skewed view of how easy doing twelve-dimensional math in one's head is for most people. "I expect being a cop is not that different, at times." Chromedome shakes his head, mild like /spreading/ from him, like some incredibly stable and trustable aura. "That's a little ridiculous, tossing around twelve-dimensional math like it's nothing. And you're telling me most people of your class would look down on you. My job is difficult sometimes, but I can't say I've ever been at risk of inverting space-time." "Well, maybe not /exactly/ the same, no. But I'm betting lives /hves/ been riding on you before, haven't they? Or at least justice for lives already lost," Nautica points out, a little more soberly. "And you've been under pressure before, and had to do difficult things." "I'm in forensics, but sure." Chromedome's shoulders shift, he watches the sculpture flux a moment. "One person's difficult isn't another person's difficult." "Forensics. That's still a pretty intellectual pursuit," Nautica points out, her own attention drifting towards the nearby CNA sculpture. "You have to keep a lot of facts in your head all at once, right? See how they all fit together? Not all that different than multidimensional math." "If you want to see me as your equal, I won't argue. Too much." Chromedome's attention slow-swerves past the sculpture, to the buildings. "How do you even get into a place like this? Properly, that is. Not just touristing." "What, to get a job here?" Nautica asks, following Chromedome's gaze. "You find something you can do -- something useful, some skill or talent -- and find a place here that needs that. There are engineering houses, schools of philosophy, even very generalized research facilities." And if her voice wavers /very/ slightly on that last one, it's probably hard to tell. "Hah! Useful." Chromedome seems massively self-amused of a sudden. He levers himself standing. "Perhaps one day." "Good luck. And if you find yourself back this way, look me up again. My name's Nautica," the femme offers, with a smile. The smile fades, however, as she tilts her head to listen to her radio. "And speaking of being useful, it sounds like I'm needed back in the lab. I'd better go; I don't want to keep my supervisor waiting; he can be a real monster!" Though it's said lightly, as if it were a joke, there's no humor in the femme's optics as she makes the statement; she certainly does turn rapidly to head back towards the buildings outside the park.